Zuleika was fair to see,
A fair Persian maiden was she,
She lived in Bagdad where all men are bad,
But none was so bad as she.
She lived in Bagdad where all men are bad,
But none was so bad as she.
Her husband was very old,
With millions in silver and gold,
He kept her locked in, away from all sin,
For Perisans are very bold.
On her head she wore a turban,
Which came from the fields of Iran,
Where no one could see she kept a small key,
Which she threw out again and again.
The first time she threw the key out,
It fell by the ikd [?] water spout,
She sighed and she cried and the door opened wide,
And in walked her lover, Mahout.
The next time she threw out the key,
It fell by the old banyan tree,
She sighed and she cried, and the door opened wide,
And in walked her lover, Ali.
She threw out the key once again,
Expecting her lover Suleiman,
She sighed and she cried and the door opened wide,
And in walked a whole caravan.
The leader then bowed his head low,
And waited her wishes to know,
"The most of you stay," Zuleika did say,
"But the children and camels must go."